1. Debbie Downer
I’m currently writing this from my high school bedroom as a freshly turned 30-year-old, fully caffeinated and on antidepressants. You could say I have a bit of a pep in my step, as my dad tells me. The perfect dynamic trio? I’d say so.
Recently my boyfriend has been calling me “Little Debbie” for being such a downer (all the pun intended) which has been both quite hilarious and... unfortunately, very true. It’s because I’m not where I thought I’d be by now—married, with kids, working as a creative director, living in a beach house, sipping coffee, reading my bible, and just getting paid to think. Instead, I’m back at my parents’ house, questioning my career choices... once again, praying to God for some type of sign.
Because I’m not in my beach house yet getting paid to think, as one thinks, I’ve started to wonder if I’m even on the right path at all. Maybe God has a completely different plan for me? And after a lot of overthinking (as I do so well), I’ve decided to shift my career path. To what you ask? Great question.
Moving on—here’s the condensed-ish version of my “professional” career so far to catch you up on how I got to this point. Starting with: I went to college for graphic design, worked as a designer for almost a decade, and started working remotely after COVID. I was living the dream—senior graphic designer, work from home, work life balance, amazing boss, supportive team. Until I realized that no social interaction was slowly sucking the soul out of me. Didn’t expect that one, considering how much I hate social interactions. But after a year, I was like, “Wait, do I need human interaction to feel... happy?” At that point, it was too late and I completely lost all meaning to life, so I quit my job and decided to become an art teacher. Why? Who knows. Just kidding, I actually do know. I guess I always had this vision of myself as an art teacher—recreating the amazing class my high school teacher did for us.
In no time, I found an art teacher position, only to be told I needed to teach it in Spanish. Cool. Sure, let’s roll with that. I am from the motherland of Puerto Rico, after all. Then someone who I believe worked for the school county found out I was a graphic designer, and they got really excited. They asked if I wanted to change the program from art to design. The incentive was a slight pay raise. Emphasis on the word slight. Of course, I said “sure” again. Every dollar has its job. Oh, and did I mention this was for middle school? Yeah. Insane, right? But for some reason, I said yes to it all. Thought I knew what I was getting myself into. Spoiler alert: I didn’t.
Instead of having fun teaching them how to draw and use Illustrator, I ended up signing up to be their therapist and occasionally, more often than not, their human punching bag. One day, I’m designing for a professional marketing team, and the next, I’m explaining to preteen boys why it’s not ideal to purposefully fart in public. Or why being expected to commit to one guy romantically is NOT a red flag.
I love those kids, but oh—my—god, I am exhausted. It’s been a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but now I’m at a point where I’m like, “Never again.” So now, here I am, back to square one. Not corporate, not education... so, “what the sigma” (as the gen-z kids say these days) am I going to do next?
Tune in, folks! Let’s find out together as I go on this marvelous rollercoaster ride that will probably end in the catastrophic downfall of my life. I know, I know. God will use it for His glory. But I’m deep down feeling super pessimistic at the moment, so bear with me as I continue Debbie-ing through this process.
